


i'm feeling devious, you're looking glamourous

by rowansberry (amarowan)



Series: if you love me, don't let go [2]
Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Fantasy High
Genre: F/M, M/M, Metal Ball - Freeform, Multi, Prom, Promposals, That's it, but those are the focal ones, metal ball goes to prom, there's more relationships than i tagged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarowan/pseuds/rowansberry
Summary: Zelda doesn’t really get prom.(Although. Well. That’s because she was stuck in a cave at her first prom, and when Fig’s mom freed her and the other six of the Seven Maidens they killed Kalvaxus, again, and that was their prom. She’s never had any experience with a prom that didn’t involve not really going and then re-killing your vice-principal when you did finally make it.)But apparently prom is a big thing?Now, how does it work when you're part of a five-person polycule....ORin which zelda tries to figure out what prom is and why it's such a big deal, and contends with her feelings for a certain riz gukgak all the while.
Relationships: Ragh Barkrock/Zelda Donovan/Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster/Gorgug Thistlespring, Zelda Donovan/Riz Gukgak
Series: if you love me, don't let go [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773100
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	i'm feeling devious, you're looking glamourous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chromathesia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromathesia/gifts).



> work and chapter titles from 'the cult of dionysus' by the orion experience!
> 
> as of the beginning of this fic here's who's dating who, so you don't get confused because trust me i do that: gorgug is dating all of them, ragh is dating fabian and gorgug, fabian is dating everyone but zelda, riz is dating fabian and gorgug, and zelda is only dating gorgug <3 hope this makes some semblance of sense
> 
> disclaimer i have never been to a prom nor have i received/given a promposal, i'm canadian

Zelda doesn’t really get prom. 

(Although. Well. That’s because she was stuck in a cave at her first prom, and when Fig’s mom freed her and the other six of the Seven Maidens they killed Kalvaxus, again, and that was their prom. She’s never had any experience with a prom that didn’t involve not really going and then re-killing your vice-principal when you did finally make it.)

But apparently prom is a big thing? Fabian mentions it, one day, when they’re all hanging out in his house, (only because it has the most space, the Thistlespring Tree and Riz’s apartment weren’t really made for five people in one room, and Mordred Manor is crowded enough as it is, and Zelda’s pretty sure her parents would be okay with them hanging out in their backyard but she’s also sure they’d make it weird, in that way they do when they’re too enthusiastic about everything, that she’s part of a polycule, and, well) sprawled out in his room on the floor and the bed and everywhere in between, and mentions that they can have prom king again without causing an apocalypse this year. 

“We can even organize promposals for each other,” Fabian says. “I’m pretty sure I caught Kristen working on one for Tracker the last time I went to Mordred Manor.” 

“Why can’t you just ask someone to prom normally?” Riz complains, tail twitching back and forth. “Why does it always have to be something big and crazy?”

“It’s about the  _ celebration _ , the Ball.”

Gorgug gets a call on his crystal, and steps outside, and understanding flashes through all of them in an instant. “Okay, Gorgug’s gone,” Riz says, “I realize I don’t understand prom, or promposals, but. Are we doing a promposal for him?”

“Wait, but,” Zelda says, because, well, “what do promposals. Um. Look like? In a polycule?” There’s four of them wanting to ask the same guy, and traditional promposals are between two people, so how the hell would this work?

Ragh and Riz and Fabian don’t really have any idea either. 

“Last year, I asked Dayne, just normal, and he punched me in the face,” Ragh says, and Fabian grips his hand a little tighter. (They’ve been going on a few dates together, nothing official yet, and Zelda’s okay with this web becoming a little more tangled.) 

“I asked my mom,” Riz supplies, “but that’s mostly because I was hoping the cops could help us fight Kalvaxus. They didn’t. But my mom and I got the final blow on Kalvaxus and ate him?” 

“That’s not how normal proms are supposed to go, the Ball,” Fabian says, eyes soft and fond even with the bite in his voice. He and Riz had only been together officially for about a month, but Zelda could tell even then that this was a long time coming, that they fit together well. “Should we all do a promposal together?”

“He really likes my playlist,” Zelda says, hands gripping the hem of her sweater nervously. “We could, um. Write him a song? And Fabian could dance, and I know Riz, you take band, right?” No one says anything for a bit, and Zelda’s face flushes hot, staring into her lap. “Never mind it was a stupid idea, we can think of something better—”

“No, I love it,” Fabian says, and she snaps her head up to make eye contact with him, surprised at the genuine expression on his face and in his voice. “We can get Fig to help us, because I know none of us have any idea on how to—” 

Gorgug walks back in, and Fabian immediately stops talking, busying himself with tracing circles up and down Ragh’s arm, Zelda and Riz making eye contact as they both avoid Gorgug’s confused stare. “Get help from Fig on what?”

Zelda prays to the god of wine and ecstasy that Gorgug won’t notice the blush on her face. “N-nothing,” Fabian says, and his voice is full of bluster and bravado and perfect for this, “I was just talking about this project for bard class, and even though she doesn’t go she’s still a bard.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Gorgug falls back onto Fabian’s bed, immediately melding back into their wonderful nest of pillows and limbs, and they all let out a small sigh of relief. (For being so tall, Gorgug likes being the little spoon, and Zelda likes nothing more than to wrap her arms around him, feeling the expansion of his chest against hers as he breathes and the warmth of his body.) “Anyways, what were you saying about prom?”

“We should all campaign to have Riz win prom king,” Ragh says, and everyone turns to Riz, sitting curled up at the foot of Fabian’s (oddly large) bed. 

“... What?” 

Riz is— well, he’s. Cute. Very cute. Smaller than Zelda, (and she’s 5’1”, it’s hard to be shorter than her, but he’s small enough to make even  _ her _ feel tall,) and he’s so earnest and determined in everything he does. (In the whispers carrying through dark nights and moonlight, they filled her in on everything that happened during spring break, and here she remembers that one of Riz’s greatest fears was sleeping on the job. It’s not healthy, how he keeps pushing himself until he’s accomplished whatever it is his mind is set on now, but she can at least respect his dedication, his drive.) She’s told Gorgug already, communicating like they all promised, and he’s tried to convince her that Riz will probably like her back, but there’s so much that could go wrong if he doesn’t that Zelda keeps it to herself, holds these feelings in her chest like a little glowing ember. “Riz Gukgak for prom king!” Ragh yells, shooting up from where he’s lying down and nearly sending Fabian flying off the bed. “Short king! Short king!”

Riz flushes a violent shade of dark green, (and that’s fascinating to Zelda too, the way that he blushes so differently from her, the green a different shade from even Ragh and Gorgug, the way his pupils dilate whenever he gets flustered,) and buries his face in his hands. “Wait, I— I don’t think I can win prom king, guys, I’m not cool at all, who’d even vote for me—”

His protests are drowned out by Fabian taking up Ragh’s chant, the room filled with the loud baritone of “ _ Short king! Short king! Short king!”  _ Riz makes eye contact with Zelda, helpless, and she has to stifle a laugh, letting her hair fall in front of her face to hide her smile. “I think you’d, um. You’d make a great prom king,” she says, and even though it’s nowhere near as loud as the boys beside them she knows Riz hears it when his blush somehow deepens even further. 

“Not you too,” he groans, and Gorgug sits up on the bed, reaching over and just pulling Riz into his lap. (It’s a wonder that Zelda doesn’t burst into flames right then and there, seeing Riz so small in Gorgug’s lap, Gorgug looking so big and gentle in contrast, the faintest blush on Gorgug’s cheeks and Riz a flushed mess.) 

“Do you want to be prom king?” Gorgug asks, pulling off Riz’s cap and slowly carding his fingers through his dark, curly hair. 

Riz shrugs, feigning indifference, but his pupils have always been and will always be his biggest tell, dilating as Gorgug massages his scalp. “I mean. I wouldn’t hate it.”

Somehow, Ragh and Fabian hear that, and their yells increase tenfold in volume, grins taking up their faces and sending Riz into another spiral of embarrassment. “WE’RE GONNA GET YOU THIS WIN!” Fabian yells, and he and Ragh quiet down a bit after that, pulling out paper and pencils and scribbling barely legible notes, one page just saying “Riz for Prom King” in what looked like Fabian’s best calligraphy. 

Gorgug leans down to steal a kiss from Riz, and steals another from Zelda, sweet and soft and quick, and with her body heat shared with Gorgug and the surprisingly sweet sight of Fabian and Ragh working hard on this new prom king campaign, with the sight of Riz like putty in Gorgug’s hands as he gives him the simplest, sweetest forms of affection, Zelda takes the ember of love she holds in her chest and blows on it gently, a smile coming to her face as it glows. 

+

Fig is more than happy to help them put together a piece for Gorgug, and even offers to play for them when it turns out that Riz is the only one with any instrument experience. (Three years of clarinet in middle school, which they learn translates pretty easily to saxophone and even though Fig prides herself in being very punk, she makes an exception to create a jazz song that’ll blow Gorgug out of the water.) Ragh picks up the drums, and Fabian and Zelda work together for what appears to be the first time to create a dance piece to the song they’re using to ask Gorgug to prom. 

Zelda’s never learned to tango before, but Fabian tells her she’s a natural. “You’ve already got the flow and the technique for it,” he tells her, “now you just need the confidence!”

“I don’t, um, really have? Confidence?”

Fabian gives her a grin, and she can see why Gorgug and Riz and Ragh all like him, with his dazzling dimples and endless charm. “That’s why I’m here.”

The dance she’s taught from her parents, and that her parents’ parents taught them is so different from tango, from ballroom dance in general — what’s familiar to her is the unfamiliar, the erratic movements that are born when their bodies are overtaken with ecstasy, moving without stopping to think. Tango is structured — there’s a poise to hold, there’s a technique to know that Fabian is more than happy to share with her. It’s moving in a different way, and it’s unfamiliar on her body, but her parents have always said she’s a quick learner. 

They borrow the auditorium, one morning, still just over a month away from prom, and Adaine offers to bring Gorgug there so they have time to prepare their promposal. Fabian and Riz show up at Zelda’s house early that morning, a saxophone case slung over Fabian’s shoulders. (“I am so small, and that case is so big,” Riz says by way of explanation, “and our school is so far away,” and Zelda has to stifle a laugh as they begin their walk to school, the smallest smile growing on her face. Riz is so unintentionally cute, and it sends butterflies into her stomach and lights that glowing ember in her chest.) 

Ragh and Fig are already getting set up on the stage when they arrive, and as soon as Riz hoists himself up he joins them, putting his saxophone together. (It lacks the same practiced smoothness that Zelda’s seen on him when he assembles his arquebus, and part of her reflects on the fact that it’s a little concerning that Riz is more comfortable with a gun than a musical instrument. The other part of her is familiar enough with how atypical their lives are to let it be merely a passing thought.) Fabian unfurls a carefully rolled banner from his backpack, and Zelda often forgets that Fabian is proficient in calligraphy, but moments like these, seeing the beautiful, flourishing script flowing across the silky paper remind her that there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye. 

“I’ll be using this,” he says, giving the paper a few test flicks, “instead of my usual battle sheet, and that way when I spin you out at the end it’ll have the promposal message on it.” The message on the sheet reads, ‘ _ Can we all take you to prom? _ ’ and Zelda smiles, excited and nervous for the performance and its sweet outcome.

“I don’t— you don’t have to  _ push _ me, Adaine, I can walk—” 

At the sound of Gorgug’s voice, they all rush into positions, Fig strumming the first chord, deep and resonant, effortlessly filling the auditorium as Gorgug’s face appears in the doorway. Ragh and Riz begin to play as Adaine continues to push Gorgug down the aisle to the front row of seats, his face completely slack in what Zelda can only hope is wonder and awe. Fig begins to sing, and that’s Zelda’s cue to reach for Fabian, who grabs her in a strong hold, pivoting them around the stage and into a series of practiced dips and turns. (It’s probably important to note that they’re in matching costumes, Fabian in a white shirt with a deep cut neckline, exposing his toned chest, and a pair of dark red pants made from a velvety material that matches Zelda’s dress, skirt following every quick twist and turn of their dance, and Zelda normally feels exposed in anything other than her carefully curated selection of hoodies, but with Gorgug’s eyes on her she doesn’t mind nearly as much.) Ragh’s deep baritone joins Fig’s clear alto at some point, and it’s beautiful, the way their voices meld so smoothly, and Zelda starts to really feel the dance, allowing some of that rage, that anger, that  _ passion _ that she always holds in her to channel through, allowing that fire in her chest to burn a little brighter. 

Fabian wraps her in the sheet, and they’re approaching the final set of counts, Riz absolutely killing it with a riff on the saxophone that still seems so unfamiliar and foreign in his hands as Zelda spins and spins and  _ spins _ , the auditorium a blur of lights around her until she strikes that final pose, holding the edge of the banner, chest heaving and burning with exertion in the best way. “Gorgug!” she yells, and she isn’t loud often but hey, it’s a big room, and the other three join her in asking, “will you go to prom with us?”

There are honest-to-god tears in Gorgug’s eyes as he nods, the biggest grin splitting his face. “Please come here so I can kiss you all,” he says, and they all share a grin before descending from the stage, each receiving a kiss, soft and sweet and full of meaning and understanding and love. “I would  _ love _ to go to prom with all of you.”

Considering this is all uncharted waters, Zelda thinks they navigated it pretty smoothly.

+

When Zelda leaves her house to walk to school a week after, Gorgug is waiting for her alone. That’s strange, because normally Riz and Fabian are with him, since Strongtower Apartment Complex is in the same neighbourhood as the Thistlespring Tree and Seacaster Manor is on the way. “You’re, um, you’re alone,” she says, and instantly she regrets it, maybe he wanted to walk with just her today and talked to the other two about it she’s so stupid, “Sorry that’s weird, it’s. Uh, it’s fine that it’s just you, I kinda like it actually— Not that I don’t like walking with Fabian and Riz! I just, um.” 

Gorgug has his hands behind his back, and Zelda doesn’t realize until he’s pulled one hand out, a metal flower in his hand. A rose, she realizes as she looks closer. “This is. For you, it’s, uh, I made this metal rose because of that time,” he says, and he’s got this nervous little grin on his face, “our first date, when you ate the, uh, the rose?”

“Oh, that was, um, sorry, I was just being stupid then.” She takes it, taking a closer look at it in the light of the rising sun. It’s really well made, each petal somehow delicate despite being made of metal, the thorns on the stem sharp enough to be reminiscent of a real rose but blunt enough to keep from drawing blood, the veining on the leaves visible and beautiful. It must have taken Gorgug  _ hours _ , to make it this detailed and this intricate, and the idea of being thought of, loved enough to devote time and energy into something so small and yet so telling makes Zelda’s heart burn with love. “I can’t eat this one,” she whispers, eyes still catching on the almost iridescent shine of the petals. “You. Um. This is really sweet.” 

His other hand comes out from behind his back, and it’s a mixtape, not unlike the one she gave him a year and a bit ago. ‘ _ Prom? _ ’ is written on the label of the cassette, in Gorgug’s familiar, scratchy handwriting, and a smile makes its way to Zelda’s face as understanding rushes through her veins. 

“Zelda,” Gorgug says, and his voice might be shaking a bit but his words are sure, “do you want to go to prom with me?” 

She grabs the front of Gorgug’s hoodie, pulling him down until she can press her lips firmly against his, hoping that her actions can convey all the words that never make it past her lips, all the wonder and hope and  _ love _ that just sits inside of her, barely able to come out. “I would love to go to prom with you,” she says when they pull apart, and they kiss again, this one sweeter, softer. 

“I know you and Fabian and Riz and Ragh already asked me, but I just, I wanted to do something special,” Gorgug says, a light blush still dusting his cheeks, “and I still haven’t given you a proper playlist yet. Before this.”

“I love it,” Zelda tells him, and she means it, really truly loves the thought behind the gift and the time that must have been put into it. Gorgug is so  _ thoughtful _ , and he’s so  _ sweet _ , and it’s one of her favourite things about him.

They load up the mixtape, Gorgug stooping so they can listen together, hands intertwined as they walk the familiar path to school.

“There’s something else that we have to finish today,” Gorgug says as they walk, and Zelda turns down the volume on the music. “Fabian and I have been, uh— we tried making a mystery? For Riz to solve? But it’s really just the promposal, I’m hoping he picks up on it but I can’t ask myself because that’s weird so can you, um—”

“Should I talk to him? For— for you guys?”

Gorgug nods, a soft smile coming to his face. “Yeah, that would be. Really helpful, just hopefully if he gets talking about it, he should be asking about the back of the van?”

Zelda blinks in surprise. “The back of the  _ van _ ?”

“Yeah, we, um. The plan is to sneak off suspiciously because we’ve been pretending like there’s something really cool but secret in there,” Gorgug says, “but at lunch Fabian and I will smoosh ourselves in there and when Riz throws it open we’ll tell him he solved it! And ask him if he wants to go to prom with us!”

“I think that’s great,” Zelda says, and she can feel Gorgug’s thumb rubbing slow, soft circles into the back of her hand. 

They walk along in silence for a bit, breaking only when Gorgug asks, “Do you want to talk about him? Riz, I mean.”

Zelda hums along to the song that’s playing, partially because she recognizes it and partially to stall from answering. She’s not sure if there’s anything to say that hasn’t already been said, but she loves saying it. There’s something so sweet about the words that leave her when she talks about Riz, light and airy like the cream on the top of a latte, and it leaves such a lovely taste in her throat, coating her tongue. “Not anything I haven’t talked about before.”

A beat of silence before Gorgug answers. “You should ask him to prom.”

“I can’t— what if he says no?”

“I guess that’s fair.” They walk in silence for a bit. “You should ask him to dance, at least.”

“... It wouldn’t be weird?”

Gorgug shrugs. “I mean— should we even be concerned with being normal? Our lives are pretty weird. I think asking Riz to dance, at prom, would be one of the most normal things you’d experience.”

Zelda thinks about this, thinks about how she’s more comfortable dancing with weapons held in her hands instead of up on a stage, about how Riz always looks on edge when he doesn’t have his arquebus in his hand or holstered at his side, how Gorgug can wield an axe more easily than a pair of drumsticks. He’s right — there’s nothing ‘normal’ about any of them, and their high school experience. She’s — well, she feels weird, constantly, for reasons other than the rages that set her apart from the rest of her barbarian class and the swords she’s taken to carrying in sheaths on her waist. If asking Riz to dance is  _ normal _ — maybe she’d enjoy a taste of it. 

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll ask Riz to dance.”

Gorgug gives her a smile. “I’m glad. I think you deserve to be happy, and I think you and Riz would work well together.”

She squeezes his hand, gently, to let him know that she understands, and they continue their walk to school, in the early morning light, her newfound resolve warming her as they walk on. 


End file.
